


Uncle Mickey Doesn't Share

by ElizaPembroke



Series: Prompts & Shorts [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bad Porno Dialogue, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Ficlet, M/M, Married Life, One Shot, Post-Episode: s11e03 Frances Francis Franny Frank, Season/Series 11, Sex Toys, can't believe I'm saying this but Debbie's right, the lilac sex robe from HoS gets a mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:22:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28776738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaPembroke/pseuds/ElizaPembroke
Summary: Franny finds Mickey's favorite toy. She wants to play, too.Based on the anonymous prompt: After seeing that ball gag in the basketball hoop in their room, I’m hilariously imagining Franny wandering downstairs with it during breakfast or something and everyone freaks out about it,
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Prompts & Shorts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099595
Comments: 19
Kudos: 219





	Uncle Mickey Doesn't Share

**Author's Note:**

> Last repost, I promise. New fic coming very soon!

They were talking again. Loud, like they didn’t give two shits who could hear them, even though the house was full of people.

Lately, it’d become almost nonstop, and Debbie had just about enough of it—and them.

“Take it, you insatiable slut!” 

“Yes, fuckin’ _impale_ me with your monster cock!”

As she stood behind the closed accordion door, which frankly did nothing to silence all the bizarre exclamations and assorted sex noises, she scrunched her face in disgust. Thankfully, her ears only _felt_ like they were bleeding, and the real damage was happening just to her inner calm.

This time, Ian and Mickey were going at it at half past seven on a Sunday, throwing around words that would make even the creators of bad pornos cringe. 

They’d been on her shitlist ever since she found several dried come stains on her lilac bath robe, and really, her frustration with them only grew stronger from there. It was one thing that they apparently made sex into a full-time hobby; sounding like absolute perverts throughout their daily (and nightly) numerous rounds was another. 

Debbie could take it no more. She was long past the point of finding it funny. There were now very specific, lewd details about her older brother forever embedded in her mind—and she fondly looked back at the days when Ian was still behind bars and dearly missed.

Checking that her palm was covering Franny’s eyes, she squeezed her own eyes tightly before getting a blind hold on the accordion door. She yanked it open, immediately causing the verbal vomit to stop.

“The actual fuck, Debbie!” 

She heard scrambling and annoyed groans and, eventually, to what sounded like a fight over the comforter, the bed creaked as someone got off it. She took that as her cue and secured her hold on Franny, who started to dig her little fingers into Debbie’s palm impatiently.

“I’ve had it with you two assholes!” she raged, using her free hand to gesticulate wildly. “I was fine with the exaggerated moans and the fact that seeing your ugly naked asses around on a regular basis was now a given, but if I have to hear the words _uber-masculine slut_ and _dom top daddy_ one more time, I’m gonna make sure you won’t be able to stick your dicks anywhere. For a long time.” 

She paused, becoming faintly aware that someone was hurriedly trying to get dressed somewhere to her left.

“Now, I’m gonna go back to bed,” she continued, much calmer, satisfied that her case was being heard without protests, “and you’re gonna watch Franny because you both owe me. Big time.”

The room was silent, the atmosphere tense. Debbie let out a frustrated huff. 

“Just tell me when,” she prompted, too scared to open her eyes. 

For a second, it seemed like Ian and Mickey argued without saying a thing out loud. Then, settling on whatever, Ian cleared his throat. 

“Yeah.”

Debbie immediately regretted not leaving without sparing them another glance. Because while Ian was at least dressed, standing in front of her in his boxers and a T-shirt that was both too tight and inside-out, Mickey sat on the bed only with the comforter bunched in his lap. 

They were both sweaty and out of breath, and Debbie felt herself go red when she noticed the visible handprints on Mickey’s neck. 

Still, she recovered fast, piercing them both alternately with a hard stare. “Can’t believe I even have to say this, but no fucking in front of my kid!” she warned, pointing her finger at them.

—

The slam of Debbie’s bedroom door successfully burst the strange bubble they got themselves caught up in. Their eyes instantly snapped to each other. 

“I call shower,” Ian announced plainly.

“Fuck you, I call shower first,” Mickey countered. “I was about to bust a nut anyway.”

“What’s bustanut?”

It was the first thing they heard Franny say, and, yeah, Debbie was definitely going to break both their dicks off after this, wasn’t she?

“Well, Franny,” Ian started as he leaned down to her, maneuvering her a little so that she wouldn’t catch a glimpse of Mickey’s naked form as he untangled himself from the comforter, “that’s a thing adults say when they have to brush their teeth. And your Uncle Mickey has a really stinky breath this morning.”

“Like you’re one to talk, bitch.” 

Ian looked up to Mickey poking his tongue in his cheek, his loosely curled fist moving in front of his face in a rather obvious motion. He shot him a glare, but Mickey just pulled his boxers up and left the room, chuckling.

The good news was that Franny seemed content with that. Shrugging her shoulders, she hopped on their rumpled bed and started jumping on it. Ian decided it was better than having to crack the ol’ concept of male ejaculation to her on an early Sunday morning and went about his routine as usual. 

It didn’t take long until something else caught Franny’s attention and she started making these low frustrated noises.

Putting on his deodorant, Ian watched in the mirror as she struggled with the cap of their lube. 

“Is this a special sauce?” she asked, all bright-eyed and curious.

Ian snickered. Franny knew all about special sauces ever since Liam started experimenting with making his own in the kitchen a few weeks ago. 

“Yeah, I guess it kinda is a special sauce, in a way,” he replied amusedly. “Uncle Mickey says he doesn’t like it, but he’s a filthy liar.” 

“Smells like strawberries.”

“Yeah, it does.” He turned, grinning at her. “Nice, huh?” 

She held the tube out for him. “Can I try?”

Instead of opening it for her like she probably expected, Ian took it from her and shoved it in the closest drawer. 

“Maybe in a few years.” 

Franny sighed dramatically, and Ian observed in real-time as he started losing his fun uncle points with her. But it didn’t matter how pouty she got; he couldn’t actually let her play with their lube. Mickey was right – that shit was expensive.

It only took about a minute this time before she got bored again. Kicking the bed involuntarily with her feet hanging over its edge, she scanned the messy room. Finally, her eyes fell on a black leathery thing laid on top of the laundry basket by the bed. 

“What’s that?”

Ian pursed his lips as he thought of the best answer, but before he could give her any, he got interrupted.

“It’s a ball gag,” Mickey supplied as he strode into the room with only a towel around his hips. His hair was wet, and the unashamedly self-satisfied smirk on his face had Ian roll his eyes.

“What’s a ball gag?”

“It’s—”

“A toy!” Ian said, a little panicky. “A toy that Uncle Ian and Uncle Mickey like to play with. Especially Uncle Mickey.”

Pausing on his way to their closet, Mickey smacked Ian’s ass. Waggling his eyebrows, he then leaned in to lightly peck his cheek.

“You betcha.” 

Franny’s eyes widened with excitement. “Can I play, too?” 

She got her hands on the contraption at the same time as Ian, who at first tried to scare her off with a stern look. Failing that, he started pulling on the strap, giving out a somewhat tentative laugh.

“Really not a good idea.”

“I wanna play, too! Please!”

“Franny—”

With an ear-splitting screech, she slipped the ball gag from Ian’s grasp and set off running out of the room.

“Crap,” Ian muttered, slapping hard at Mickey’s arm when he had the nerve to chuckle. “Dumbass, your dick’s on the line here, too, you know?”

—

In the kitchen, he found Franny making rounds around the table; the sex toy held over her head victoriously like a golden trophy. Thankfully, the only person sitting there was Lip, who seemed genuinely entertained by the sudden spectacle.

“Uncle Lip, Uncle Lip, do you wanna play with my ball gag?” Franny asked mid-run.

“Uh, maybe later?” Still smiling, Lip shot his brother a look, pointedly raising a brow.

“Franny?” Ian tried playing nice with a sing-song voice. When the kid slipped past him over and over again, he decided to change his tactics. “Franny! Gimme that!”

“No!” she yelled stubbornly as she took off toward the living room. Unluckily for her, that’s where Mickey, having come down the other set of stairs, caught her. 

As he walked back with her, he held her under his arm so that her tiny legs kicked the air behind his back as she tried to wiggle free. “Sorry, kid, but Uncle Mickey doesn’t share his toys,” he told her as he settled her down in the kitchen. 

Lip sniggered into his mug. 

“So, breakfast?” Mickey suggested after he passed the ball gag to Ian. “I’m fuckin’ starvin’.”

While Ian hid the sex toy upstairs, Mickey made Pop-Tarts. And Franny, being the good girl that she was, sat there through all that and quietly sulked. 

Then, after nibbling on her breakfast for some time, she stood up resolutely.

“I’m gonna go bustanut,” she stated proudly, nearly prompting Lip to choke on his coffee. He watched as Mickey cackled, and shook his head.

“Debbie’s gonna kill you both, you know?”

Mickey just smirked. “Can’t wait to see her try.”


End file.
